in the land of gods and monsters
by S.J Carter
Summary: Lost in the woods, within the darkness of the night, is a broken and beautiful youth, with a mysterious monster inside of her. —-KlausLydia
1. no one's gonna take my soul away

_Le notes: _So this was going to be Pydia but then I decided to pick Klaus because…I really _really _want to have his babies. And of course, there were these youtube videos. This is so very AU, I tried my best to keep them in character. This is the soundtrack though: Attack on Titan, ost 03; Eye Water. Please listen to it while reading this, it REALLY sets the mood.

_Summary:_ Lost in the woods, within the darkness of the night, is a broken and beautiful youth, with a mysterious monster inside of her. —-KlausLydia

**.**

**._.**

**in the land of gods and monsters  
.**

**._.**

**i:**

no one's gonna  
take my soul away  
**.**

**/ / /**

Under the bleeding light of the full moon, little red sits in her bed, rustling under the sheets of Egyptian cotton and staying so very restless. Her eyelids are the flimsiest of shields against the unwavering memory of ash and smoke, red blood smeared all over his face, and the blue flowers sitting next to her bedside at night. She pushes them away, chasing away the invisible plants. She fails to let anyone know that she still dreams about him.

His fingers are running across her cheek as her tears are pooled in the corner of her eyes. Suddenly, the bedroom feels much to warm and her skin feels as if it's on fire. A man will appear; a man scented by corpses and rotted flesh, old and wild dirt, as if he is an ancient ghost.

_Hale_, she thinks before she releases a horrifying scream. He tastes like old rocks and pebbles, dirty pennies, filthy copper, and just the slightest bit like a nightmare.

She gasps when she hears a faint _howl_ under the light of the moon_._

**.**

**/ / /**

She's dreaming the night the leaves and trees capture her running legs and catching breath. She's dreaming of a man who shifts in to a wolf. Suddenly, the man is dead, nothing but a corpse underneath layers upon layers on dirt. And then he is breathing, alive, and he is before her. Eyes so blue, like the heart of the Nile River. He has her wrist between his fingers, a hold so tight and strong that just the slightest tug from his end might separate her joints.

"C'mon now _little red_," the wolf smiles with teeth and fangs, covered in blood, soaked in bones, "won't you let me in?" She screams, she doesn't know for how long, but she does.

And when she finally awakens, she's nowhere.

The bedroom beside hers could have been her saving grace; except her parents have no clue that their only daughter has just run in to woods, wailing at the top of her lungs. She's in her pajamas, seeing nothing but darkness and broken branches on the ground. Frantically, she takes her cellphone out.

No bars.

She sighs. Though, this couldn't be anything new. Lately, she feels as if her own mind has been turning against her. Making her discover young corpses and coming face to face with death on one too many occasions. But, the woods were never a safe place to dream, regardless of the fairytales and myths she had heard as a child. It was an area much too mysterious and impure. Still, this time, it was different.

This time, she hadn't run just because of an impulse. It had been the harsh memories which dragged her feet across the land. It was her body trying to escape her own mind, and her soul trying to leave behind her heart.

_Hello_—

Lost in the woods, within the darkness of the night, is a broken and beautiful youth, with a mysterious monster inside of her.

_Anybody out there_—

Suddenly, she flinches.

_Anybody_—

She has the oddest sensation that she's being _watched_.

**.**

**/ / /**

He finds her in the woods one day, by pure chance.

He has caught but a glimpse of her strawberry blonde hairs and snow white skin but already, he can_ sense_ what she is. He had heard about her kind from nothing but stories from witches he thought were either mad or complete liars. And yet, here she was, standing before him; the wailing woman. A girl so beautiful, so strong, so intelligent but most importantly, so very_ immune_.

His nose twitches though, because the girl smells tired. But mostly, she smelled scared, frightened, with the overwhelming drowsiness of perfume surrounding her limbs. She reeked of the stench of betrayal and lies. Broken dreams and sorrows, anguish and turmoil, pain…so much pain. Oddly enough, he found himself relating to her tragedies.

He too had wanted to run on many occasions. And he had done so for most of his life.

"You know, _stalking _me is not going to work in your favor. I have a friend whose father's a cop." She surprises him by her words of steel. She has enough guts to speak to him as if she is all high and mighty, even though her scent clearly gave her fears away. He was a stranger after all, a strange man, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing better to do than have the blood of a young girl in his mouth.

"Stalking?" He repeats, as if the word is utterly foreign to him. Yet his face is feigned with false innocence. She can't help but notice the missing presence of light in his bright blue eyes. They remind her of someone else. And for some reason, her first instinct isn't to run.

"Why certainly," she tells him, fingers clenched in to fists. "What else would you call the fact that you've been following me for the past hour and half?" She reckons, considering the digital watch on her phone had still been working. She hears him chuckle and wonders if this is all a big joke to him. Then again, she is the one who is in the woods in nothing but her pajamas and fuzzy slippers.

"You are lost." He discovers, dancing a finger on his chin. He speaks to her as if he was going to help her find her way. She wasn't daft; she knew what game he was playing.

"No," she insists, rolling her eyes.

"Then pray tell sweetheart, what is a young youth such as yourself doing in the woods in the middle of the night?" It takes her long enough to deduct that his accent must mean that he is new in town. _British, _she thinks as she smiles slightly.

His presence is of no importance to her for the time being so she walks onwards, trying to mask her horror and pain. "That happens to be none of your business." She says as she leaves the man be.

He then starts to find her quite intriguing.

**.**

**/ / /**

The next time she sees him is when she's at the coffee shop with Allison. He looks like he's minding his own business, sipping his café latte and going through a little black book. But he catches her staring once, twice, maybe a third time —and his lips curve in to a smile.

_Arrogant, _she thinks and then she realizes that she's had enough. She's dated many arrogant guys in her life to know where _this _was going. Not that she was planning on dating this stranger, or anything.

"Is this a hobby of yours?" She approaches him, of course. He does nothing but raise a blonde brow. "You know, following around young women?" She specifies; all he can do is chuckle quietly.

And she thinks this; _can a man possibly die from smirking too much?_

She really has no idea whom or what he is. He found this rather…refreshing.

"Not particularly." He tells her, meeting her gaze. It's then that she realizes how piercing his eyes truly are. They really did remind her of the dark irises of a man-wolf. She clenches her jaw at the thought.

"Then what do you call _this_?" She gestures to herself and then to him.

He can't help but smirk, again. "A coincidence?"

She rolls her eyes and blocks out her sarcastic _oh please. _"There's no such thing." She announces to him.

"Do you not believe in chance _love_?"

This time, she's appalled. "Number one," she says, waving a finger in front of him, "calling me _love _won't leave us on friendlier terms, if you must call me by something, I suggest you call me by my name. Which is Lydia, by the way," she realizes too late that he happens to possess quite a charm when he's quietly listening to her rambling. "And two, to answer your question," her finger dances on her cheek as she ponders. "No," she tells him, "I do not believe in _chance_, or fate, or any of this other bullshit that you are willing to throw at me."

What infuriated her the most is that this man had seen her at her weakest moment. She couldn't help but be bitter towards him. It wasn't as if she had wanted to be caught by a stranger when she was an utter mess.

She is completely flabbergasted when he does not offer her a witty reply. Instead, he simply gives her a look. Eyes that speak words which she cannot decode. It's sad, if even a man who is a thousand years old can believe in this concept so magical and so unreal, why can't this girl believe as well?

Has she really been hurt so much that her own innocence has been lost for eternity? It's much too sad, she wonders if he's looking to her with pity, even if he is the type of man who tries to stay far away from the concept of remorse.

**.**

**/ / /**

That night, in her bedroom, she's surprised to see that her nightmares are gone. Her night is calm and soothing. Then, she notices that the window is slightly open and the cool autumn breeze is passing inside the room. There's also something else, it's that _howling,_ again. The last time she had heard it, she thought for sure that she was imagining it. All a part of her nightmare. But now, the sound is different. It's not so horrific or high-pitched. It's like a song.

The wolf cries at least three times that night, and for some odd reason, it keeps Lydia wide awake.

The next morning, at school, she fails to concentrate on her classes. All she can think about is that howling. And she starts to ask herself why in the world the wolf had sounded so broken and lost. Nothing like a predator, nothing like what she was used to.

_Just like a wolf in sheep's clothing._

And, truth be told, the fact that she had begun to _accept_ this creature in to her life managed to scare her even more that the presence of monster himself.

**.**

**/ / /**

It's a while before she sees him again.

Long after Jackson has left town, leaving her in pieces and very frazzled. Long after Allison has suddenly had a change of persona, all dark and mysterious, but more mature. Unfortunately, Lydia starts to feel as if everyone around her is growing up and moving on. Away from their nightmarish pasts and dreams. Even Scott is taking summer school and getting himself back together. Lydia was abandoned, once again. Alone, and the only one who had yet to get back up and stand on her own two feet.

Another nightmare, another scream.

Inevitably, she's back in the woods; curled up in to a circle, hugging her knees and shaking, in nothing but her pale pink nightgown. She's on the verge of crying. This is when he finds her.

She finds herself relieved, at least for now; someone had been by her side. Even if he was a creepy-british-stalker-dude. At least, she wasn't alone anymore.

**.**

**/ / /**

It's been weeks since she's heard the howling. She wonders just why she's been postponing a face to face confrontation with the wolf. But then maybe, she thinks that he might not be calling her at all. She's a fool for sure, if she believes her own lies though. After all, the only reason why the wolf calls her is because he sees a monster in her. A monster of the same nature as himself.

She couldn't hide forever.

**.**

**/ / /**

Sometimes, at school, she feels ignored. Sure she's the queen bee, and the boys look at her like they want her, and girls look to her like they want to be her. But there's nothing else, not really. No one by her side to laugh or cry with her.

**.**

**/ / /**

"I think," she begins, folding her hands together, "I think I come here when I feel lonely." She realizes, looking to the sky for answers to her endless lists of questions.

"You must feel lonely quite often." She hears him say, something about his voice tells her that he may be a bit lonely himself.

"I do." She admits to him, offering him a weak smile in return for his company.

The next time she's in the woods, she ends up actually talking to the man and he even manages to walk her home when it's almost morning.

"I suspect your parents might want an…explanation." He releases, sounding somehow tense.

She only shrugs though. "Don't worry," she assures him. "They won't ask any questions." They never do anyway. She turns to him, his eyes this time, look a bit distant. As if he is lost in some memory, of his own cruel past, confused parents and sad fate. "Well then, goodnight Klaus."

He smirks arrogantly (she doesn't mind though, not this time). "Sweet dreams Lydia Martin."

She wonders if he knows how ironic his statement truly is.

**.**

**/ / /**

It's winter now, she still falls asleep to howling and sometimes, her insomnia vanishes. But at other times, the howling sounds so damaged and shattered that she can't, she won't fall asleep. It might just be worse than the nightmares because it's false comfort. The cry of a wolf who has a story he's hiding, an identity he's kept a secret from her.

Then again, is not telling her something that she probably already knows really considered as lying? Lydia fails to tell the difference. She rolls back in her bed, letting the ignorance of it all envelope her soul.

**.**

**/ / /**

There is one night where he waits for her and this time, she thinks she won't come. Allison had invited her over for a sleepover and honestly, she thinks that it might be quite nice for her to have one night away from the supernatural drama.

A few days later, the woods draw her back in.

She finds no traces of Klaus. Nothing but a scrap of paper with a pretty sketch of a flower drawn on to it. She wonders why he would leave her a Forget-Me-Not as a present. And then she thinks that perhaps, it might not have been meant for her at all. After all, he hadn't written her name on it, or anything like that. There was simply no indication that the sketch was given to Lydia.

Still, she couldn't help but associate the flower with her own identity; as a girl who seems to be rather left behind and abandoned so very often.

(She burns the drawing).

A girl who can sometimes be so very monstrous.

**.**

**/ / /**

The howling continues.

She has to face _what_ he is, someday soon. She can't live in fear forever. She can't just keep on wondering what he has planned for her. She has to know that he's come for her.

He must have some trick up his sleeve. This was just too easy and seemed a little too wrong. But strangely, it _felt _right.

**.**

**/ / /**

One day, he shows up at her school, wanting to pick her up.

He leans against his sleek black car; sunglasses resting over his eyes, and all the girls giggle, blush, and point. They wonder who the hot college guy could be, and for a moment, Lydia thinks she would have felt kind of special. Only she doesn't. She doesn't really bother with asking him any questions. In fact, she actually ignores him.

When he notices her walk right pass him, he hops in to his car and immediately starts to follow her.

"C'mon now sweetheart," he says as he rolls his window down. "Why not make this easier on yourself? Hop on, I'll drop you home." Unfortunately, his advances only result in to her giving him the typical eye-roll. Teenagers.

"No thank you," she simply says.

He frowns, but keeps driving and decides that he'll unlock the back door for her. She notices the sound and gives him a look. He smiles. "Just in case you change your mind."

"I'm not going to."

"Whatever you say love."

"What did I tell you about using those useless pet names?"

**.**

**/ / /**

Her shoes are impractical, her feet are sore from all the walking, and her sweat is starting to melt her make up off her face. Still, she refuses to give in to Klaus's demands. She'd be fool to fall for his game.

"Did you not like the drawing I left you?" He asks, looking cool and well rested in his air-conditioned vehicle.

"I have to admit," she starts, thinking that perhaps, his company was better than no company. "You are quite talented." She tells him. He smirks. "But I'm not a big fan of Forget-Me-Nots. Maybe if you had drawn me a rose or even a sunflower."

"A sunflower?" He repeats, in a confused tone. Truth be told, every typical girl would desire a rose, but a sunflower, now that was something.

Lydia smiles. "Of course, it's the flower of worship and undying devotion." She specifies, recalling how these flowers move with the shifts of the sun. They follow blindly and Klaus wonders if she somehow desires to be showered with such benedictions as well.

"Is that what you want?" He questions instead, "idolization?"

She thinks of her school, of the many girls who compliment her on her designer handbags and pretty clothes. He gives her a look; he knows that it will never be enough for her. It's not what she wants. It takes her a while to realize what he had meant by his sketch of the Forget-Me-Not.

She did not want to praised at all, she wanted to be remembered.

**.**

**/ / /**

The night he comes for her is a cold and wild one. With the light pitter-patter of rain, and a soft howl of the winds.

"Are you one of them?" She questions, tucking a few strands of stray hairs behind her ears.

His doe-eyed face is fake, this she knows. "One of what sweetheart?" he knows exactly what she's talking about but, he needed to hear her say it. He savored the moment that he had become a revelation to her. She finally came to terms with his identity.

"A wolf." She continues though, determined to find out just what he is hiding.

He smiles with his teeth this time, stainless and free of blood. For a moment, she wonders if she's wrong. "What makes you say so?"

She's nervous this time. "Nothing," she says before meeting his gaze. It's nothing short of wolfish. "Just, something about…" her mind wanders off, on a tale about a little girl, grandma's house, the creepy old woods, and a wolf who destroyed it all. "Are you going to answer my question or not?" Her moodiness is back the moment she snaps back to reality.

"I'm not _exactly _a wolf." He offers her an honest answer. She finds herself at a loss.

"Then, what are you?"

He's confident in his answer. "A different kind of _monster_."

And because she's been faced with kanimas, alphas, wolf-demons, and Peter fucking Hale, all she says is this: "oh."

Lydia fails to ask Klaus anymore questions after that.

**.**

**/ / /**

She is alone (as always) on the morning after she has consumed liquor like it had been water. And maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe she's really just had enough of Klaus's games. Either way, he unlocks his car and she deliberately hops in to his vehicle. His smile is kind of wicked at this point, and she thinks that it is already too late for her to run back home to grandma's house. The wolf already has little red contemplating on 'oh what big eyes you have'

_All the better to _see_ you with_—

and on 'oh what big hands you have'.

_all the better to _hold_ you with_—

"I have conditions," Lydia tells him.

He sighs, "I'm all ears sweetheart."

She gives up on scolding him about the nicknames this time. He wins this round. "One," she points a finger. "You are not allowed to whisk me away from town. You are to bring me back here after you're done with whatever it is that you need to do."

He can't help but be slightly curious. She seemed pretty miserable in this town, why wouldn't she want to leave? "Why not?"

"Because," she's confident this time, "I still have school, and tests. I want a perfect attendance records and high grades. I also happen to like the malls here, they have nice clothes and I am really accustomed to where everything is. I would miss my parents and my friends, even though sometimes, I don't think that they'd miss me very much—" she stops when she realizes that she's rambling, again. Perhaps, he might have a strange effect on her which made her so nervous that she talked a little too much.

So she breathes in. "Anyway," Klaus hears her. "My second condition is this," she might just look a bit frightened by her own words. "You must show me what you are."

He really is surprised to hear this new development.

"And you don't have to worry about me running away or anything like that." She assures him, before he can even offer her an answer. "I've seen enough monsters in my lifetime and I've even dated a couple." She wonders if she could count Peter in the same category as Jackson. Nonetheless, the fact that she's unafraid (or so she pretends to be) has Klaus quite intrigued. "I won't go back on my word if you respect my conditions."

He chuckles then. "Anything else then love?"

"Nope." Lydia puts an emphasis on the 'p' at the end of her word.

"So then," his fingers suddenly capture her chin. He is so close that she can feel his hot breath on her face. His eyes become quite mesmerizing. And then she remembers, "Lydia Martin,"

_—a wolf in sheep's clothing._

"Are you ready to see what _true_ monsters are made of?"

**.**

**/ / /**

**Tbc?**

**/ / /**

**.**

_Le more notes: _I don't know if I should continue this…I'm all out of ideas (stupid useless brain). But perhaps someday I will pick this up again? Until then, review and hey, who knows. Maybe all the encouragement will make me want to continue this after all. Maybe leave some ideas too? I'd love some advice! Critics? Plain old love? Please?

_—**Xoxo Carter**_


	2. I was an angel

_Le notes: _Your eyes do not deceive you, yes I have actually updated. My writer's block is terrible, I apologize for the delay. Classes have started now but I will try my best to pick up the pace regardless of University and its various complications. Wish me luck! And I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**.**

**._.**

**in the land of gods and monsters**  
**.**

**._.**

**ii:**

i was an angel  
living in the garden of evil  
**.**

**/ / /**

Klaus (or _Niklaus,_ as he sometimes likes to put it) tells her that he is old; older than her mom or dad, with a face so young and malicious that she fails to believe his ancient words. His eyes are cold, lethal and volatile as he waits for the right moment (_my dear girl, the timing must be perfect_) to show her his teeth. And then, there's that moment of realization. Where the foolish _oh grandma, what big teeth you have _becomes a total understatement. Lydia Martin sees fangs, but no blood or bones or bits of skin hanging from his teeth. All she sees is this: Niklaus hovering over her, his car is cramped and she feels thoroughly uncomfortable as his legs pin hers to keep her in place. His hands rest on the seating, close but not too close (just inches away from her bare thighs; she clearly picked the wrong day to wear a short skirt).

Her head spins, feeling a bit of vertigo from how swiftly he moves, _inhumanly_ swift, so she holds her forehead. All this is long before her eyes travel from his teeth to his eyes. They are no longer blue, she notes; Niklaus's irises have turned in to a glowing yellow. The golden irises of a monster. Thoughtlessly, she lets her fingers dance over the skin under his eyes; feeling the prominent black veins which suddenly appeared on his face.

She's unaware of why she feels so fascinated, so curious. As it turns out, fear is no longer able to overshadow her desire to learn. She has always been a smart girl. This time, things are no different. This man…this _creature_ intrigues her in a way that is so very unfamiliar. Yet he says he is old, over a thousand years of age and then some. He says that he's had dinner with Napoleon Bonaparte and countless conversations with King Louis XIV, that he's met with Jacque-Louis-David before his death (he promises that he is not responsible for it, "_I may enjoy the hunt love, but why in the world would I chose to deprive the world of such a talented man?"_). All she does is rolls her eyes. And Klaus (_Niklaus?_) tells her that Henry Fuseli, Francisco Goya, and Theodore Gericault could all be very fascinated by this girl and her wit. Enough to paint her, even if it is a little out of their genra.

She is flattered (that is his intention after all).

Of course she's only gotten the gist of it; all these dark artists might actually enjoy Klaus's company because they probably have a lot of creepy habits in common with one another. Yet, Klaus doesn't fail to notice the hint of fascination ever-present in Lydia's eyes.

He really is an interesting man.

She raises a brow. "Are you making all of this up?" She questions, tilting her head to one side (all wide eyed, full lips, and pink cheeks, parting slightly; like a woman in heat, only wanting him to close the space in-between them with a kiss).

He sighs. _Time enough for that later, _he supposes as he offers her an answer instead. "Now what purpose would that serve me?"

She rolls her eyes but, he did make a good point. "Guys have gone to great lengths to impress me before." Unintentionally, she admits to something which only boosts his ego.

His arrogant smile gives him away. "So then," Lydia can only pretend to punch herself for what she had just said to him. "Are you saying that you are impressed by me?"

Hopelessly, she learns that it is thoroughly impossible to bruise his ego. For he is a man so strong and so destructive (but she is slightly unaware) that everything he touches turns in to something tainted.

Realization comes to her too late as his hands have already marked the skin right above her forearm with a light blue-ish purple bruise. He doesn't apologize though, because he is always in close contact with her. Invading in to her personal space, each and every time. And he holds her firmly as he tells her his secrets.

_Hybrid, _he says, filled with confidence and arrogance.

All she can do is hold in a gasp. He does not fail to notice it. For her heart beats fast, like the batting of nervous eyelids and lashes, and of a hummingbird's wings, rapid and quick (oh, she's scared now).

And it's no surprise, not really, because Niklaus has always been one to be feared by others. Though, he claims that he would not have it any other away.

He says this simply because he does not know any better, for he is a man who could not love (or so his sister had claimed, not so long ago).

**.**

**/ / /**

_"Are you ready to see what true monsters are made of?"_

He shows her his fangs,

(it's not as scary as it should be).

"_No need to fret love," _his fingers run across his own full head of hair,_ "lucky for you, I'm not quite thirsty at the moment. So you're neck's safe. For now."_

**.**

**/ / /**

Lydia Martin remembers quite a few things about the supernatural world. It's frightening and screech worthy, but of course, it is also interesting and uplifting. She likes knowing that there's something else out there; something sort of magical and brilliant. Even though it's nothing like she had imagined; nothing like the fables and tales she had heard as a child. Because in those stories, the hero is always stronger than the monster. But real life is strange, you know? So odd that the hero and the monster are sometimes not even enemies, but they inhabit the same body. They are one, and strangely, both sides are just as appealing.

She recalls he first encounter with the supernatural world. And no, she is not fifteen, or sixteen, or seventeen at this point. She is actually only five years old, with fire in her hair and light in her eyes. It's weird, like everything else in her life. It doesn't happen often, not really.

She hadn't ever expected it either.

The strange and surreal moment where she found a dead bird. A light grey pigeon, so thin and fragile, failing to breathe and _oh god. _It's dead…it's dead isn't it?

But birds die all the time, one of the kids on the playground say. The other just says to leave the corpse alone. Someone tries to bury it, maybe. After school though, Lydia comes back and sees the bird, still in its same dead state. It happens once, and only once. Where, for the second time, her little hands and fingers wrap around the cold animal, she feels no pulse as she hugs it.

Of course, then she cries, and afterwards, there is a glow of life.

_"You must live." _Her lips press against the pigeon's feathery breasts and suddenly, there is this:

"How did you do that?" Stiles asks, all young and naïve, with his heart beating fast as he lays eyes on the girl who can bring the dead back to life.

"Do what?" She questions, completely unaware of the flying, now alive bird, spinning around her head. She raises her chin to witness her own miracle.

Stiles sees her light, so bright and shining, like a diamond in the sky. Perhaps, this is the moment where he first fell for her, or so he thinks. The moment he saw her in all her glory.

_Intelligent, strong, immune._

But most importantly, she is magical.

He grabs her hand; she pulls away because his chubby little fingers are covered in mud. Still, he makes her follow him back to his house in such a hurry.

"My pet goldfish just died yesterday," he recalls, leading the girl up the stairs. "Maybe you could help him too." Stiles is so kind hearted, she thinks but doesn't tell him so.

Because he could never see the monster that lied deep inside of her. Since, the boy before her is not a beast, simply a boy.

That is why, years later, when Niklaus is before her, she feels something she hasn't felt before.

Common ground; something they both share.

_"I think you are magical, Lydia Martin." _Stiles had said to her, way back when.

She is wiser now; his words don't make her smile anymore.

_"I am a monster Stiles." _Unfortunately for her, he never saw her in such a destructive way. For him, she is always perfect, stunning, and beautiful. Perhaps, she is tired of living up to that ideology. Maybe she wants someone to see her flaws, to _want _her for her ugliness.

But she brings pigeons back to life and Stiles catches a feather before it lands on her strawberry blonde hair. She makes his fish swim and his smile dance. The room fills with his laughter and she realizes that perhaps, if she had been a smarter girl, she might have chosen Stiles over all those other boys long ago.

As it turns out, she is not as intelligent as everyone thinks she is. For Jackson catches her eye, and so does Aiden, and just about every other good looking badboy in school.

Niklaus, of course, is no exception to that rule.

**.**

**/ / /**

Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Isaac then decide to acknowledge her existence. They pull an intervention. Even Derek shows up. Well then, this must mean something had seriously gone wrong, mustn't it?

"That guy you keep hanging around with, he's got no heartbeat." Derek says, crossing his arms around his chest.

"Yah and he smells really weird to." Scott agrees, furrowing his brows.

"Kind of like a werewolf but not really." Isaac elaborates.

Stiles and Allison just look to her, all lost and broken. Thinking she's better than this, but they don't know. They really don't know a thing about her at all.

"Stay away from him, he could be dangerous." Stiles warns.

And Lydia knows this all too well.

**.**

**/ / /**

On her way home, Lydia decides that it's time to get down to business. And she doesn't mean what everyone thinks she means. No making out, giving in to her sexual frustrations about this man with a hot accent. No, certainly not anything like that. It's because Klaus is different, he's not like the others, he's a man with a plan.

And she just so happens to be ever-so intrigued.

Or maybe, she really does want the creep to stop following her around. People are talking and it's getting to be quite a nuisance.

"So, what exactly do you want with me?" Finally, she stops stalling for time.

He rubs his chin with his knuckles, not even hesitating to answer her. "I wish to study you. See what abilities you possess."

Honestly, he sounded even creepier than usual. "I find dead people." She blankly says and all he does is chuckle.

"Oh c'mon now, there must be something more…" his hands gesture in a circular motion. She wonders if he really knows more about her than he's leading on.

"Then what?" Lydia's tone is higher, mightier. "What are you doing to do when you find out what I am?" she dares to ask, because seriously, who does he think he is? Does he think that it's okay for him to just barge in to her life and steal her away?

Still, his smirk gets to her in more ways than one.

"Well," he lets his hand swing closer to her own. "That will all depend on what you are." She watches as he picks up her fingers and caresses them. He has a touch so soft and delicate, too innocent for a monster like him.

She hesitates and wonders if he's going to lean in. Yet, the silence between them is suffocating. Hopelessly, she feels as if she has to break it. "Are you…are you going to kiss me now?" The question is rather unexpected.

Klaus is stunned. "Did you want me to?" Yet his answer is still brimmed with arrogance.

Lydia purses her lips (_looks good enough to eat, doesn't she Niklaus?_ His subconscious rings). She has never met a man like him; one who asked before he took things away from her. He didn't seem like the type to do that sort of thing. It really is unbecoming of his persona.

She can't help but offer him a fake smile in return. "If I say no, will that sway your decision or will you simply do as you please?"

Again, he laughs softly, it sounds genuine and nice. Her ears seem to be addicted to this sound. "Oh sweetheart," he begins, hand resting on the small of her back. "Haven't you learnt a thing at all?" His lips don't touch hers, no, not yet. "I will _always _do as I please."

Surprisingly so, his haughty comments do not manage to turn her off. She is accustomed to his charms (looks like she is not so immune after all) and when he looks in to her eyes, she feels weak in the knees.

Unexpectedly, Rebekah Mikaelson chooses this time to step in to the scene. She interrupts their moment, as if she were called upon on cue; Niklaus can only smile, his sister did always have the most perfect timing.

"Hello there, _brother_." She drops in like an atomic bomb; destructive and dangerous, ready to explode at any given moment.

"Sister dear, must you ruin all of my fun?" He responds, noticing the blonde girl in her high heels. "How did you ever manage to find me? Last I heard, you and Salvatore one and two, not to mention the doppelganger, were all involved in some kind of foursome?"

Her brother loves to tease but she won't give in to his taunts. Instead, she simply sighs heavily, lifting up a battered (but familiar looking boy) by the collar. There is blood on his neck and his eyes are shut tight.

"He wasn't being as cooperative, so I had to compel him so that he would offer me some information on your whereabouts."

Just before Niklaus can offer her another remark, he finally hears it:

the scream of the banshee.

"**_STILES!_**" Little red launches herself at her friend, tears in her eyes, as she's longing to feel a pulse.

**.**

**/ / /**

_"_Please don't be dead. _Please don't be dead_, _pleasedon'tbedead."_

("Has she gone mad?" Rebekah sneers, looking to her brother with confusion. "And is this seriously why you left town? Because Caroline Forbes rejected you and now you've found some new girl with self-esteem issues to chase after?" She complains but Lydia is too busy holding her classmate. And Niklaus only mocks Rebekah.

"Bekah, you are truly blind if you fail to see the wonders that this girl may possess." He strolls over to Lydia, his cold hand wrapping around her throat. Finally, she feels true and genuine fear.

"Don't touch me." She orders, but once again, their eyes meet and she feels hypnotized.

"Sweetheart," he begins, his voice sweet like honey. "I didn't want to resort to this, I thought that I could manage without compulsion, but I supposed that I was wrong." He tells her. Lydia doesn't quite get it (but how could she?). "After all, I wouldn't want to cause a ruckus, with all your screaming, the rest of your friends might wander their way here." His lips hit the shell of her ear. Unconsciously, she drops Stiles's body on to the ground. "And I really don't want to deprive you of any more of your loved ones. At least, not just yet."

_Run little red, run._

She should listen to her own advice. She knows better, she really does.

Yet, Niklaus has compulsion on his side. "You must remain calm, Lydia Martin." He holds her tight, bruising her all over again. Purple and blue hues, blooming on her skin, as if they were flowers. "My sister will not hurt you."

_But Stiles is…Stiles is!)_

**.**

**/ / /**

He remembers her as a hazy hue, of endless colors, lights, and candied corn; so sweet and soft on the outside (oh but he doesn't know, on the inside, this girl is a devil). Yet, Stiles Stillinski is the one who is enchanted by the pretty blonde, sitting all by her lonesome, at some corner of town. He doesn't dare approach her, not yet, because girls like _that _don't exactly go for guys like _him_. Evidently, she hates being labelled or judged.

So this is what she does; she compels him to talk to her.

And this is what he reveals; his mother is dead and his father works. And works. And works some more. He reveals that at most times; he feels unloved, unappreciated, and unwanted.

But she is a girl, breakable and strong, ugly and pretty, understanding and complicated. She tells him he should know better, that her own mother made too many mistakes but she still loves her all the same. That her father was no better yet, she can't help but miss him as well.

"You are lucky," Rebekah says, looking Stiles in the eyes, "I wish my father could care so much about me. Your father is quite admirable, you know?" He doesn't get it, not really, not yet.

This is his answer: "I don't think I'm all that important to people."

She sighs, meeting his gaze, wondering what in the world could make such an innocent boy look upon the world with such a dark view. Oh, but she doesn't know about the wolves, about the lives he's lost. Yet Rebekah takes him by the hand, looks in to his eyes and compels him to think this; "Stiles, you must never doubt that you are loved."

And so he doesn't.

**.**

**/ / /**

**Tbc**

**/ / / **

**.**

_Le more notes: _Before you say it, my answer is yes, I am quite serious about this StilesRebekah thing. I think it's cute, and if this ship has piqued your interest, please check out my other StilesRebekah story titled "_filth in the_ _beauty" _It's going to be quite a steamy story so if you're in the mood for something a little sexy, make sure to check it out!

_**—Xoxo Carter**_


End file.
